


Just Their Nature

by Norver



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Athim needs a hug, Boranehn Clan, F/M, Fade Shenanigans, Fenris Needs a Hug, I know right?, Jealous Solas, Not In Chronological Order, Solas Being Solas, Solas is an Egg, Varric as a parental figure, an elf inquisitor that is not from Lavellan clan, like seriously, main character is gifted mage, possessive, sominar main character, the chapters can jump from the past to present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norver/pseuds/Norver
Summary: There are many ways to temper pride, but integrity is preferable. Loyal to a fault, slow to trust, and a person of their word, Athim knew fate was never kind to them, this would be no different.Thrown into the midst of conclave disaster, all Athim wanted was to find that fool dwarf and drag him back to kirkwall, maybe punch a seeker. Now this mark is on her hand making her a bit more glowey than usual. She's not one to promise things she can't do, but she never said she wouldn't try. Even in these trying times she never thought she would meet someone she would call a trusted friend, let alone someone to care deeply for. There was something about that elven apostate....





	1. Chapter 1

Why is a person the way they are? Is it just their nature, or was it learned? Have they always been like this or have they changed? Are they different from how they were or are they the same? Do they just hide their nature behind a veneer to protect an already fragile, broken, fragmented self?

Can their nature be forced to change?

Every thought was strung along in a tangle of incomprehensible strings from the muck that seemed to take up residence in her mind and the molten fire that seemed to have taken up residence on her left hand. She knew she had been drifting in and out of consciousness but Athim couldn’t think past anything but the pain that felt like a thousand needles in her arm as broken memories floated to the forefront of her mind. Someone needed help. Someone needed…

  
A pitiful whine echoed through the back of her throat as the sound of a small shocking explosive sounded and the pain ripped through her hand and up her forearm as Athim turned on her side and tried to curl around the painful appendage. Her face pressed against the cold stone floor, that by all means be uncomfortable, but felt quite nice on her feverish face. A hand pressed her right shoulder so that she rolled onto her back as a soft voice drifted over her,”Abelas, da’len. Shh, Ir… Abelas…” 

  
A calloused hand drifted over her left as the pain diminished slightly before drifting up to push some of her hair from her sweat laden face. The comforting touch drifted over her cheek in a slight caress before testing her temperature. Through the pain and delirium that seemed to be plaguing her Athim leaned further into the significantly cooler skin as delirious mumbles tumbled from her lips,”She nee-needed help. Ne-need…. To warn… needed… help… g-grey...eyes, too many eyes…”

  
As she tried to lift her head up to look at the person with her the hand traveled to her forehead and gently pushed her back to laying completely on her back,” Shh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep da’len. Somniari.Hamin, da’len.” The pain was starting to diminish as the hand on her head was coated with magic as a suppression spell was cast to put her back to sleep as she continued to mumble,” need… to warn, she needs… help.. .the ...divine… intruders…”

  
With her consciousness slipping away along with the pain, she drifted in between the fade and dreaming, too weak to actually enter the fade. It was one of those rare dreamless states. Like just closing one’s eyes for a moment before blinking back awake and several hours or days having passed. 

Except this time as she woke, and she did wake before didn’t she? She can recall some brief awareness but could not recall anything other than that, but she was resting on top of what felt like a sleeping bag on top of a stone floor. And she managed to confirm that when she blearily opened her eyes against the pounding in her head. And by the void her head felt ten times better than whatever was wrong with her hand. 

Peering around she swallowed the instinctual panic of seeing a dungeon, the feeling of needing to flee, get out, needing to rip her way out because she was not going back there. Not when she was helpless, no no no, she still had her magic, stuttering and irritated under her skin trying to not mix with the arcane substance taking up residence in her hand. But no… last she checked she was not in Tevinter, even if she were, those that had caused such reactions from her were dead, via her or by some other slighted individual.

The agitated magic of her’s and the foreign substance made the brandings burn more potent than before, but it was bearable should she need to actually fight her way out of… here. Where was here? Her memory was scrambled, trying to piece together some that felt missing. It was alarming because it brought back memories of before with similar instances. Very similar.

_ Dark walls covered in dripping water, musty smell in the air. A dungeon, a cell, a prison. They wanted to know where he was at, who he was with, what are their talents. She wouldn’t say. She promised she wouldn’t. Swore she wouldn’t. She always kept her word. But instead they wanted to anger him, if the master couldn’t reach his runaway slave then he’ll just take his slave’s friend instead. ‘What would happen if you branded a mage with lyrium?’ They said with a twisted grin,’oh but we’ll tame the savage dalish, right little rabbit?’ Hate anger defiance. It wouldn’t matter but her moral code kept her from ever being tamed. But that didn’t stop her from screaming, and the pain, burning molten liquid that made her mana feel like fire and it a dous of oil. It hurt it hurt it hurt. Memories chipped and chaeffed and for a time she lost some of her. _

Her eyes fluttered as she banished the memories from thought and recalled the last clear ones in her mind. She was in the hinterlands tracking Tevinter mage’s presence in the area before hearing from one of her dwarven friend’s contacts. The blasted fool managed to get himself captured by a Seeker of Truth because of knowing Garrett Hawke. Foolish foolish dwarf. Ofcourse he said not to come after him through the message, but what did he expect her to do? 

It t’was not too difficult to realise which seeker it was, the right hand of the divine, and so it was only logical that she go seek out the Divine, because where she would be then that seeker had to be. And that seeker would have to know where her dwarven friend is. 

But now struggling to recall any recent memories, she briefly remembered arriving at the conclave and meeting… Oh yes, knight captain Cullen at a town named…. Haven was it? Oh Curly was sure surprised to see her around. But he seemed to be in a position of power and when she mentioned why she was there they had an understanding. She would provide her magical expertise and tell what she was willing to share of Hawke to the Divine, and Curly would attempt to talk to the ones in power to get Varric from their custody.

She was planning to wait a day or two, see how things would go and then decide whether or not to continue with plan a or b. Plan a being sneak in , find dwarf, grab dwarf, get dwarf crossbow, and bolt undetected. Or plan b, fight way in, find dwarf, grab dwarf, punch seeker, get dwarf crossbow, fight way out and bolt. Not well thought out, but fate was always a double edged sword with her. Lucky or unlucky was up to debate, so it would probably succeed either way, but with more complications.

A spark from her hand had her grab it and now focus on it. The foreign magic was clinging to her like a moss on rock, and it made her flinch from the pain and the somewhat nauseating feeling of the foreign magic tangling with her own. It was like embers on the palm or a lesser lightning spell gone wrong pain wise but it was also uncomfortable something that should not be tangling and trying to force her magic to merge with it. The strands were already in several knots and it was similar to an itch under the skin that one could not reach. 

Pushing herself up to sit as she tried to even her heavy breaths from the pain. The blanket of the sleeping bag fell down to her waist and she was glad to see she still had her original clothing atleast, foot wrappings, scarf, and all. She appeared to be in a small cell that was guarded by a single human that was falling asleep. Poor guy seemed to be in need of a good meal and decent night’s rest if the exhausted circles under his eyes were any indication. 

Throat dry and harsh, she managed to croak out,” Well… Shit” That was all it took for the guard to jerk awake,falling ungracefully to the ground before scrambling to the door with haste. Despite the circumstances an amused humph left her lips as she pulled herself together, digging deep in her reserves to find the perseverance to brush off the hunger in her stomach from lack of food, and the god awful feeling of foreign magic rubbing against her mana and lyrium brands. By the time she stood, mostly composed and only slouching into the wall two women entered through the door with a dramatic flare.

Door banging open slamming against the stone wall, torch light shadowing the cloaked one’s face and making the second dark haired one more menacing, the two approached the cell with a determined gait. Cat like eyes of brown speckled orange glanced warily towards the two, head tilted in a sign of recognition, Athim would honestly not know what to expect except maybe torture and yelling.

“Everyone at the conclave is dead, except for you,”The dark hair woman said, and Athim finally recognized who she was. Clad in her seeker armor was the woman she sought out, Cassandra Pentaghast. Then what the seeker said had registered. Frowning heavily several thoughts ran through her head as she tried to think of what could have killed everyone, if it were a joke, if not how would she be alive, what happened during her lapse in memory?

With a soft snort through her nose the prisoner quietly offers, “Everyone dead? Unlikely, unless some idiot decided to poison the wine or blow something up…. Again….” The dammit Anders is unsaid in her mind so as the shard of betrayal ringing morose was left ignored. The seeker looked about ready to lose whatever composure she had to let hell ring loose with the disregard, but the red headed cloaked lady spoke up,” And blowing something up again would be a reference to Kirkwall, would it not?”

Teeth clicking audibly shut whether it was the seeker or prisoner, the Nightingale could not tell, hell it could have been both, but the tenseness between the two seemed palpable in the air. Athim, tense and the ignored emotions of solemness, betrayal, rage, defeat were carefully guarded as a noncommittal affirmation of “Ah…” was all she could give as she thought of ways to escape, how this would play, and are they wanting revenge, information, or what of the conclave, it couldn’t truly be dead could it? All those people couldn’t be dead, she wouldn’t believe it until she saw it with her own eyes, it could just be a trick by these shemlins. It would not be the first time she had been led to believe people had died just so her emotions would be scattered.

The cloaked one tilted her head as tired eyes of sadness and fierce determination stared back at her, the orlesian accent trickled out from her fair lips,” So what Cullen said seems to be true. Were it not for him you would be in chains and a less comfortable position,Serah.... Athim was it? You were a friend of the Champion of Kirkwall as well as a friend of Master Tethras, were you not?”

Alarm colored her as Athim got a better look at the woman, a spy perhaps? Yes she did seem familiar… Red hair, orlesian accent, iconic cloak, spy….spy….spy! That is it, Nightingale, the left hand of the Divine! “Ah, that would be correct Serah Nightingale.” 

“So then I would assume that the other things Cullen had said were true as well? You were here looking for the dwarf and had agreed to lend your magical expertise to help the conclave’s efforts?” The elf huffed lightly with an amused tilt of a lip, of course Curly would,” Of course Cullen would, well yes. I came to reclaim my dwarf from the clutches of a raving seeker,” the next part was mumbled under her breath, audible to the room,”Or that is what he would have written, fool dwarf.

Yes Nightingale, I offered to give advise and provide a… different perspective not from a circle.” Pentaghast looked less prone to bashing her in with a shield, a little more intrigued but also impatient. Red approached the cell closer, touching the bars as she asked,” Do you remember how this started? How this all began?” 

“Specifically I cannot remember much from…. Eh.. the last things I remember clearly would be several hours of conferring with arguing templars and mages… Not that, that was out of the ordinary, that is mostly what I had to contend with the past several days. Otherwise no, I do not know. I cannot remember and I would think I would keenly remember foreign magic getting embedded in not only my skin but magic. Quite painful you see? Would have been excruciating….” Could the pain had triggered a memory relapse? Hmm. Possible or lyrium could have been a factor... Haywire spell? No, more magic would have to been brought to bare… or a very talented mage… no it would have to be blood magic then…. she trailed off in the rambling of her thoughts, trying to narrow down what could have caused both. Maybe they were separate factors? Possibly. Fate has never been kind to her.

With a shake of her head she continued,” The last wisps of memory would be…. Running… things were chasing me… and then… then a woman? I think…” The thoughts left her more confused than before. Where was she running? What was chasing her… “Too many eyes….” 

“ Do you remember when you briefly woke, an apostate was caring for you and said that there was intruders… you mentioned the Divine, do you remember that?” The confuzzled look that crossed Athim’s face was answer enough,” No… You’re serious about all those people... Dead?”

If that was the case then… Varric, was he okay, was her reason for being here still breathing, living, alive? “Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take her to the rift.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“Varric is fine though?” The hole in the sky was hauntingly beautiful in a way, the fade was thin and pressing down around everything, and Athim could feel the demons and spirits alike in the area. Mostly demons and a few spirits of Curiosity and a few that could withstand the pull and corruption of the real world, like Fortitude and Purpose.

“Last I have seen of him, yes. The dwarf was not at the conclave.” Cassandra’s Nevarran accent made her voice sound flatter than the line of her lip. Not in a bad way, but in a get this shit done type way. Being led through the town of Haven through the narrow eyed stares and glares, and then being taken to the thing that was causing pain to ripple through her arm and mana was an experience.

Athim was going to have to rely on this woman until she could find Varric before abdicating the area. However if what this woman said was true then that breach in the sky was growing and tearing the veil open at the seams. It would have to be dealt with. That brought with it another conundrum, it blew open that once theory of enough magic brought to bear. There was no fineness to it, glaringly obvious was the fact that someone took the magical equivalent to a sledge hammer and smashed a portion of the fade open, consequences be damned.

If there was something she could do to stop the demons from escaping or the corrupting of unfortunate spirits, then she would try. That at the very least was what she should do. It was a shame, all this destruction and for what? Why would someone do this? The conclave was a chance for peace between the mages and templars, but it would not be too far a stretch to assume one of the two sides had caused this, but it was doubtful that any circle mage had the power to do this.

Not having a focus to use in a fight was something that she was use to but considering the circumstances she truly wished she would have had the foresight to obtain one, even if it was a blasted staff. Channeling mana through her body was easier with the lyrium brands acting as a catalyst to propel the spells away from her body but with the arcane substance interfering it was more like trying to coral and force her own mana through the channels that were usually so willing, but now it felt like her well of mana was boiling and steaming. Harder to control and contain, harder to cast with using her own body as a focus as she was trained to do.

“Watch it seeker,” the sharp retort was accompanied by a flash of lighting being shot at a shade, and a shimmering barrier enveloping the armored woman at it’s claws stuck at her. Attempting  to reach this so called rift was met with opposition. Of course, Athim thought glumly, fate would laugh at her as it broke a bridge, _with her on it_. Nothing was ever so easy. Why would this?

With a heavy breath a trickle of lightning relocated to the other shade gaining on them. It took a short time for Cassandra to finish them off with a twist of her sword before they continued on. Preferably Athim would rather had a pair of daggers, or her focus gloves to use spirit blades but for now she would act as support, maybe Varric would still have the gloves or a spare dagger when she finds him? It was possible.

“We’re getting closer to the rifts, you can hear the fighting.” the seeker was pushing forward up the slope towards the clash of swords in the distance. With a tsk the elf charged after her companion while asking,”Who’s fighting?” which was rewarded with a generic,”You’ll see.”

With the wind picking up, the elf rose her voice in a sardonic lit,”Yes just the answer I want to hear seeker, just a warning, when the time allows for it I’m going to punch you.” A sharp laugh followed the statement as the seeker glanced over her shoulder to her current prisoner,”I don’t think it would do much damage.”

“Small I may be seeker, I still pack a punch.”

At the crest of the snowy hill Athim rushed forward when she spotted a copious amount of chest hair and a crossbow, Several shades and wraiths were in the vicinity which were all taken note of as she slid under a wraith to land a lightning enhanced punch into the face of a shade getting too close to her dwarf ignoring the seeker calling out,”Are you insane!”

“Sleepy! What the hell are you doing here!” Said dwarf looked gobsmacked as he swung around to get a good look at the small elf as she danced away from sharp claws before shaking his head and firing his crossbow. The two worked flawlessly together, belying an amount of recognition of being acquainted, with Athim acting as the frontline distraction and Varric picking them off one at a time. Like a fluent dance she would dance between the enemies, lightning dancing at her fingertips before an arrow would ind purchase in a shade.

Stepping away from a swipe of claws a bit too close to her face to be comfortable, a shard of ice embedded itself before freezing over the entire being, the last of the demons slain, the sparking green whole in the air rippled and sputtered as a hand snatched her wrist,” Quickly! Before more come though!” With a thrust her hand was in the air as unfamiliar mana pushed from the stranger,cool , smooth like the end of the summer, or an early autumn wind. Pain surged through her arm as a tug was being generated through the mark, the tug became a pull as she realised what he was trying to accomplish.

Her own mana welled around his own, warm, humid, and static like a summer evening before a thunderstorm, it was only a fumbled attempt to pull at the rift, like tugging on a zipper until it gave and closed with a snap. Heavy breaths left her as she got a decent look at the man, an elf, bald, older, taller, hand still grasping her wrist. With a flinch she gently pried his hand from her wrist before taking a step back, distrust in her gaze as it swept over him.

Clad in a green wool robe, the bright blue of his eyes had a quality she couldn’t describe, like he was taking in something and gauging whether it was good or bad. Leather held the staff at his back and bag. Curiously enough he had a wolf jaw bone necklace. Having no shoes with only footwraps he seemed somewhat ill prepared for the weather.

“What did you do?”

“I did nothing, the credit is yours,” he said stepping back as well, putting his hands behind his back, hunching his shoulders as he tilted his head down to look at her. Lifting her hand in motion she replied, “This you mean. Least it’s good for something.”

“Whatever magic opened that breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand, I theorized that the mark could close the rifts that have opened in the breach’s wake… and it appears that I was correct.”

A voice spoke up behind her as cassandra came to stand side by side to her,”Meaning it could also close the breach itself.” Head tilted to the side Athim glanced at the seeker as the apostate muttered a soft,”Possibly.” Before he could continue he was interrupted.

“Well that’s good, here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” And there goes Varric lightening the mood with his quips. “Well  Durgen’len for you it’d be more chest deep,”Athim turned to greet the dwarf with an unamused stare, hiding the exhaustion creeping up on her with veiled annoyance.

“Well that’s all fine and dandy, but the better question is why the hell you’re here Sleepy, aren’t you supposed to be hunting Tevinter slavers or I don’t know, out in the wilds ?” The accusation was obvious in his voice as he approached with a frown. With a grim chuckle Athim shook her head and said, ”Sure I did, for a time when we all scattered to the wind but then I hear my favorite dwarf managed to piss off the Chantry, specifically a raving seeker. What did you expect for me to do?”

“What I asked, don’t come looking for me! Don’t get in trouble! Don’t get caught by templars! You managed to do the opposite of all that!”

“Raving seeker? I resent that.”

“Well fool dwarf when have I ever cared for what you wanted when in danger. Shemlin are not kind to any who are not their own... Even their own. You alone, with your affiliation with Garrett and that mouth of yours, would end with a sword to the gut.”

Varric frowned before shaking his head, “Okay, fine, you not wrong but-” “You made yourself a target so they wouldn’t go after the others, I know, all the more reason to go after you fool dwarf,” Her voice was soft, tired and honest, the fool dwarf part sounded more like an endearment rather than insult, “Now I believe there are more pressing matters to attend.”

With a nod Varric shouldered his crossbow and nodded towards a path leading away,” Yeah good point, we’ll need to go through the valley it’ll be-” “No your help is appreciated Varric, but I will be taking the prisoner there, your help is no longer needed,” The Nevaren lith sounded the air as she took a step forward inserting herself into the conversation.

The glare that was sent to the dwarf put Athim on edge, shifting to stand between the two Athim smirked grimly towards the intimidating woman as she leaned forward, despite her size she was intimidating with her predatory gaze, “I am no prisoner of yours Seeker, I am merely here for the dwarf and now to do what I can for that hole in the sky.”

Stepping forward the human leveled a glare towards the elf,” You are still not cleared of suspicion, the Knight Captain might trust you but I do not. Until then you are my prisoner.” With a steady stare Athim tipped her head to the side,”If that is what you believe then, I will warn you Seeker, the last people that tried to chain me, it did not end well for them. For now we have a common goal, I am not here to be your friend Seeker, I am here for my friend, my loyalties, and now my morals dictate that this atrocious misuse of magic must be rectified.”

The glare lessened as the dark haired woman blinked, respect finding her eyes as she looked over the small elf, it was a better answer than she could have given. Glancing back to the dwarf partly hidden from view before he spoke up,” Have you been in the valley lately seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me,” he threw a wink in as well which made the respect vanish. With a disgusted grunt she turned around and stormed a few feet away.

There was a pause before the tall elf took a step forward gesturing to himself, “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.” the intensity of his stare was colored with curiosity and caution. Varric sighed as he shifted from behind his elf shield,”He means, I kept that mark from killing you as you slept.”

With a tilt of her head, the small elf turned to face the man studying him silently for a moment, ”Well then. You have my thanks.” “Yeah well that just adds on the list of people to thank Sleepy, now better question is how the hell did this happen?”

With a huff Athim gave a wiry grin, half hearted at most,” Well, fate has never been so kind, no? I haven’t the slightest clue as to how this happened, though I’m willing to bet it has something to do with outlandishly bad luck.”

The dwarf shook his head as he turned away,”Only you Sleepy would have that shit of luck.” A small cough from the taller elf had Athim turning her gaze back to him, brows drawn together in apology, “I meant no disrespect, Pleasure to make your acquaintance, people call me Athim.” Cassandra sidled up closer to the smaller elf,”Like you, Solas is an apostate.”

“Technically all mages are now apostates Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the breach. If it is not closed we are all doomed regardless of origin.”

Athim turned her stare to the distant hole, hovering above in the sky, the muted greens and bright slashes were beautiful, like a dragon, or a wolf, or when the weather turns frightening. Frighteningly beautiful. Beauty in the danger it posed. “Well Sleepy, any thoughts on the matter. I mean, out of every mage I know, you probably understand what’s going on better than most, and I hate being caught out of the loop.”

With a tilt of her head Athim frowned at the thoughts plaguing her, “The magical equivalent of a sledge hammer. No finesse, possibly a lot of grandstanding. What was it to accomplish? If so why with so many people, here of anywhere? Making a statement… Other than mages and templars, maybe a tevinter magister…. Or at least one that no longer operates in the Magisterium. A strike against the Chantry and possible opposition… It does not matter now. What matters is that we end this before it becomes even more disastrous.”

The confidence and assurance in her voice was something she did not feel, but it seemed to assuage not only Varric but also the seeker, both letting some tension drain from their forms.

“We must reach the forward camp, we’ve wasted enough time dawdling,” pushing onwards the Seeker went on, expecting them to follow. With a nod Athim followed behind, Solas trailing after her while Varric tried to catch up to Athim.

Slowing slightly to match with Varric’s lesser strides, Athim gave him a sideways glance, ignoring the sweat dripping down her face despite the cold. The brands were flaring up in time with the pulses that seemed connected to the Breach. It took all she could to not show it, to hide the exhaustion creeping over her, with little less than a thought she sent her mana circling in her system, making her feel more awake, akin to adrenalin. Made it easier to ignore the pain by redirecting it closer to her core away from the flaring in her arm, and the burn of the lyrium.

Voice low, low enough only for her to hear, Varric leaned in closer, “You not looking too good there. Usually you’re all red in the face with sunburn and right now you’re looking pale as a ghost.” With a gruff grunt Athim turned to look at him, smacking a grin on her face,”Why is that concern I hear?I’m not good but I’m okay for now. Worry more about yourself fool dwarf I look after myself, do you have my spares on you?”

With a frown the dwarf dug through his the inside of his coat before pulling out a peculiar set of gloves. Mostly leather with half rings lining the knuckles, metal circle aligning the palm and the fingertips covered in metal. Taking them from the dwarf, Athim tugged on the gloves, hold her breath to prevent any noise of pain from feeling the awkward effect of channeling magic through her left marked hand into the focuses in the gloves.

Uncomfortable pulls her magic closer to what’s attempting to tangle with it, makes it easier to fine tune her magic into more tangible threads that pull delicately across the veil, weak as it is, as bad as she feels, she could put up a good fight, even a disappearing act with dwarf in tow if the occasion calls for it. But as is, it is more ability to use the fade.

Pushing forward met them with more demons and more fight, houses burning and the awkward wobble of fighting over a frozen river. It was easy to fall into the old routine of fighting with Varric at her back. Nary a thought and spirit daggers are formed and with a dismissal of the shock radiating from their companions, they are the first to combat the demons.

Driving them back towards an incline, with Athim being the frontline slasher and Varric covering them both, a dash of magic tossed into the mix, and it was a deadly and graceful dance to watch. A small elf and hairy dwarf managing to make a grim fight with grueling demons something almost graceful.

By the time Seeker and Solas caught up to the duo they were up a hill, finding several more shades in the area, one  with claws going to strike the small girl before a tip of lightning shealth out and electrified the competition. With the four of them they make quick work, all huffing in some manner of exertion.

Puffs of air leave her as she shifts tiredly to one leg, ‘So far she does not seem malignant in nature.’ Solas thinks as he looked over the smaller elf. Long dull brown hair, almost blonde, pulled into a long braid that drifts down her back, bangs pinned up and away. Sunset colored eyes rimmed by charcoal and pale skin that seemed to make the sweat dripping down her round face all the more visible.

She could be called pretty had she not looked ill. Too pale, too haggard looking, but the determination in her gaze held fast, distant and cautious, guarded. Her stance unlike other elves he’s seen in the alienages, not hunched or avoiding eye contact. No she looked one in the eye and look guarded but not standoffish so.  

Dalish maybe? She did have a strange name that almost made him snort in amusement. Athim? Humility. Humility sent to intervene in Prides plan. If it could even be called a plan anymore. Shadows they all are but now fate has sent Humility in the guise of a gifted mage, friend of the child of the stone, is it coincidence… Well fate has never been kind to him.

Robes draped in a blue hue, tied only around her upper waist, underneath was a close fitting light no sleeved leather armor that seemed to be overtop of a dark woolen sweater. Loose pants wrapped from the shin down in cloth bandages with the feet mostly bare, hardly any skin showing, only her feet and face, now even her hands were covered by those gloves the dwarf produced.

A type of magical focus that she uses to as a replacement for a staff? Someone that is use to hiding their talents from those that would cage them. Even her face was partly covered by a scarf, green and pattern in cream color. Wrapped to obscure the bottom of her chin, close enough that the edges could not be used against her in battle.

Stalks like a hunter but does not act like the Dalish he has encountered. But she used the language in a way that one expresses familiarity with, not stilted nor repeated, but spoken naturally, supplementing some words in common. Not down trodden or broken wisps of a those in alienages. The magic she wields, smoother and more fluent than could be taught in a restricted atmosphere like a circle, obviously some Dalish magic, but spirit blades forged in a similar way that the arcane warriors once used, Dirth’ena Enasalin? Where would one find knowledge like that? In the fade? Possibly if one knew where to look. From a text or scholar? Unlikely. The mystery surrounding this small shadow was already prevalent. Polite feriousious thing she is.

“You are Dalish are you not,” Spilled from his lips, curiosity getting the better of him. Sunset hues glanced his way, emotions hidden in her gaze by the guarded look, discerning, observational, clouded with resolve. Her stare was… hypnotizing, so many emotions held beyond that gaze, but the air was still and silent. Another reminder of his failure. She is still but a shadow, an interesting one with secrets.

“ I was,”came the smooth reply, curious in where his question would go. Gloaming irises turned to him, waiting for him to continue,”I have crossed paths with the Dalish on more than one occasion.” He continued drifting off. With a tilt of her head she nodded,” Yes, then I hope they treated you well. If not then I hope you learned to be wary. The Dalish are not a people to be trifled with in their own territory.”

Varric snorted and said in a lightning tone,”Can’t you elves just play nice for once?” Passing the dwarf and standing aside from the seeker the smaller elf replied, “Nice is a relative term, just like good and evil durgen’len. The same could be said of humans, and your kind. Now enough talk, there is work to do.” With nary a look behind her she started the treck down the hill back to the frozen river.

Seeker following close behind, the last two covered the rear, Athim doing her best to mask any weakness even as audible sparks sounded from her gloved hand. Pain flared all the way up her arm and the brands reacted violently with the foreign magic, that made her stumble and breath harshly through her mouth.

With alarm Varric rushed forward, lifting his hand to steady her before thinking better of it ,“Shit, Athim are you-” “I’m fine, just…. Peachy.” Straightening herself out she gave her attention to her friend, nonchalant, and calm, no pain showing on her face even as it was a shade paler than before, sweat dripping down. Pain still flared but she would not show weakness, she does not need him to worry anymore than he is. She was dying from this, she already knew that, but he doesn’t have to.

“We have to hurry, before the mark consumes her.” Thank you Chuckles, just what they need to know. With a nod the seeker took point with Varric bringing up the back of their ragtag group. Solas settled into the gait she had before offering her his hand. Distrust flitted in her gaze,”And what do you want?” He leveled her with a solid stare, eyebrows furrowed in a distantly concern way, “I can attempt to lessen the pain for now, if you would allow me.”

The suspicion lessened and her gaze softened, “Thank you, that is a kind offer, but I am inclined to reject your offer for now. The pain is not bad, you worry of your own self Serah. Conserve your strength, I have a feeling we will need it later on.” It was a lie, the pain was bad, but adding more mana to the mix may just tip the scales into unbearable and they did need to conserve their strength. Though to be honest, the only ones she trusts here would be Varric and Cullen, strange apostates did not meet that list, even if he did save her life.

Retracting his hand he nodded, no ill will or disappointment, only gracefully accepting her decline. “So Sleepy, what really did happen?” Glancing back to her dwarf friend she sighed before stating,” I don’t recall. I would venture a guess of being in the wrong place at the wrong time… Or possibly right place and time seeing how I’m not dead.”

“I’m glad your not dead Sleepy but you should’ve spun a story.”

“That is something you would do fool dwarf.”

“Well my way’s less likely to get premature execution.”

A snort sounded, “You are not wrong ma’Falon. Would not be surprised if that is were this goes later.”

The seeker cut in leveling a stare at the elf, eyes hesitant, looking for anything that would give away guilt from the prisoner before stating, “The forward camp is up ahead, let us hurry.”

Shemlen, always so entertaining, watching that one Chantry cleric get red in the face was entertaining to say the least, though Athim had a feeling that this would only be the first of many death threats from Shemlen in general.

The mountain path seemed the best bet to go with, quicker, safer, and to regather any scouts they could find to bolster what would be left of the forces seemed to be the smart option here. The quicker they get to the breach the faster she could try to fix this mess, but knowing the amount of power that went into this she would venture the best she would do at most is a stopgap measure. If the demons could be stopped from getting through than Cullen could reorganize the troops and  get a handle on the situation rather than just try to hold ground.

Wind blustered around the group as the seeker said,” The tunnel is at the top of these ladders, beyond that the path to the temple is just ahead.” Snow already up to her shins Athim trudged along next to the seeker as she explained the information she could about the mining complex.

Taking a glance behind her at her companions and gauging how they were holding up her sight caught on the older elf. Poorly dressed for this weather, his face had a rosy hue and the tips of his ears were an uncomfortable red, probably painful as well with how sensitive their ears are. His feet were probably worse, but there’s nothing she could do about that. With a sigh she slowed her steps till she was in front of him pausing their march up the incline towards the rickety ladders that were sure to be a bunch of fun.

He stopped shortly before her leveling her with a raised eyebrow, asking an unspoken question. Narrowing her eyes she eyed him critically before sighing once more  in tiredness, eyes closing for a reprieve before tugging at her scarf, pulling it off and holding it out to him.

“Wha-” “Take it, you're not dressed properly for this weather, and your ears look quite painful.” With a shake of his hand he said, “I do not nee-” “It was not a matter up for debate, foolish man.” Her words trailed off softer than before, tiredness making her less patient as she shook her hand once more as he hesitantly moved to grab it.

Turning around she continued to the front, not looking back hearing a soft,”Thank you.” Drift over the wind, bewildered eyes trailing after her.


	3. Chapter 3

“And you’ll watch over her right? I won’t be gone long, I’ll just grab so-” “Master Tethras, you have no need to worry. I shall watch over her. There’s no need for you to neglect yourself, and I do believe she would not appreciate it. You should go eat and rest.”

The dwarf glanced between the unconscious elf tucked securely in the bed and then to the other one sitting at the desk next to them. Uncertainty flared in his eyes before he sighed and said, “Yeah, your right Chuckles, she would probably just call me an idiot and send me out anyway… Good night Chuckles, don’t stay up too long, you look like you could use a good night's rest yourself.”

A soft click resounded in the air as the door closed, the elf turned his gaze back to the unconscious elf laying prone under the blankets of the bed. The threat of the breach was dealt with, albeit temporarily, it was more than Solas could have hoped for. 

This shadow, this elf, Athim, was surprising, intriguing really. Brave and steadfast. Much different than what he expected, it made him curious to see what else she had to her person, what else she could accomplish. A considerate person as well, even in the pain and distractions that the situation afforded them she kept tabs on all her companions, ensuring that they were as comfortable as possible for what was sure to be a terrible fight.

Sky eyes roamed across the planes of her face, distressed still, even in slumber, pale and sweat collecting in her hair, she looked deceptively fragile, but he saw what those hands were capable of. Anything but fragile. Small and slim, smaller than even normal elves belaying a lack of food when growing, it made him cringe internally, another aspect of his failure thrown back at him.

She was even considerate to him. Saw his discomfort and gave him her scarf. She was… she is intriguing, something about her that just calls to him. Maybe it was just the intrigue and mystery of her, or maybe that she just proved his expectations of her wrong thus far, or maybe her kindness was something he found endearing. After all she had to be from an alienage or a Dalish clan..

Tucking the scarf closer to his person, the elf allowed himself to indulge in one of his more, admittedly, animal aspects and tucked his nose into the fabric. Elfroot, wildflower, something sweet like honey and… a smell that reminded him at rain. It had a pleasant scent to it.It suited her.

An uneven breath drew him from his thoughts, face scrunched in discomfort, as sweat dripped down her face. Reaching over to a small bowl filled with water, he rang out a cloth before wiping her face softly, as to not disturb her. It took only a mere thought and a small tingle of mana through him before laying chilled fingers on her feverish face, it was a surprise that the breach did not just outright kill her twice over. She must have been exhausted when fighting with that pride demon but she was steadfast in her demeanor and words, an immovable wall. It was comforting to those around her that found their own confidence and faith lacking.

Breaths evening out, her face smoothed to a more restful picture. For now he must ensure her survival, she will be needed for what the future holds, and preventing what energy was left in her hand to return to the foci was of more his concern. For now it was just an enjoyable side benefit to see what this intriguing shadow would turn out to be.

Well this is just wonderful, thoughts flickered through her head as she made her way back to where she spotted her fool dwarf. An inquisition. That she was to be apart of. Not that she was against mending the sky and bringing more stability to the area but the thoughts on the Chantry chaefed her wrongly. 

The Chantry and their religion always brushed her the wrong way, even if now a small niggle of guilt and apprehension broke through her disgruntled mind, remembering the last chantry she visited willingly blew up… like the conclave… she should really stop visiting places willingly.

Spotting the copious amount of chest hair, Athim carved her way over towards the small dwarf huddled near the campsite and fire he made, it appeared he was making some sort of soup. Right now she could really use a distraction from the uncomfortable tingle in her left hand, the arcane substance settling against her own, carving out it’s own place next tot her mana, tangling with it in that uncomfortable way that made her want to scratch it until it bled. 

“Ah... there’s that foolish dwarf, and here I thought Seeker would have sewn your lips shut by the way she glared at you last.” Spinning around the dwarf’s startled gaze lingered over her, taking in her appearance, less tired looking and haggard. 

“Well well, look who’s back from the dead! Sleepy you really know how to give an old dwarf a heart attack.”

“Fool dwarf, you are neither too old to have a heart attack, and Hawke would have given you one by now if that was the case.”

Varric waved her over to the patch of snow free ground he was crouched on, running a hand over his face before turning back to the food he was stirring. A heavy breath left her as she sat unceremoniously next to him, ignoring the grumbling pain from her stomach.

It appeared it was louder than expected as he eyed her critically, “Yeah, well you seem to be replacing Hawke in that aspect, when was the last time you actually ate Sleepy, you still look like shit.”

“Oh, just what a woman loves to hear Durgen'len. Last week I believe. I was unconscious for quite some time and no one had thought to actually feed me before marching up to that hole in the sky.”

Pulling out two bowls he frowned at her before scooping a good helping into one before thrusting it out at her. Covered hands grasped the bowl before proceeding to slurp it without utensils, to ravenous to really care about table manners until Varric held a fork out to her. 

“Ma serannas,”She mumbled before taking the fork and plucking the ram bit up and eating without so much as inhaling. An incredulous look passed over his face as he watched her eat without even tasting.

“Slow down there Sleepy, there’s more where that’s coming from, and it’s also disturbing to watch someone inhale food like that. You need to take better care of yourself kiddo.”

A sharp glance was spared in his direction before she reached for the ladle for another serving before he smacked her hand away, grabbing her bowl Varric slid his own over to her as he dished out another helping while she went right back to eating.

He took a sip of the soup and sighed in content, watching as she slowed down some, ravenous hunger appeased to a manageable level as her table manners came around, small sips and a fork fool of food at a time, it reminded him of when he first met the kid. Ravenous hunger and all but it brought a cringe to think where such table manners were enforced.

“Now that you're not likely to eat the bowl and fork, I think we need to talk Sleepy.”

“You’re not wrong Varric. This was unexpected, you should leave while you can, the Seeker does not seem intent on keeping you any longer.”

“I was just about to say that. Now that you’re away from Seeker, how are you holding up?”

She was silent for a few moment, thinking over how much she wants to give to him, how much would make him worry and how much would appease him, she settled for, “All things considered, it could have gone worse. None of us are in shackles any longer, and we’re not dead, so I’ll count that as a win.”

“Yeah well that’s not saying much Sleepy. You should think about running at the first opportunity. I’ve seen a lot of shit, but that hole in the sky? That’s beyond heros. It would take a miracle to fix it. I don’t want to see anymore of my friend’s lives ruined.”

“...You’re not wrong Durgen’len. But for now it seems I am needed, and I shall stay as long that I am. You on the other hand, you plan to stay as well, do you not?”

“Nothing gets passed you Sleepy, I like to think I’m as selfish as the next person but…”

“I understand. We’ll have each other’s backs like we used to. I mean what could go wrong with a dashing dwarf and an elusive elf?”

It got a small laugh from him as he finished his bowl, gazing up at the still present breach. They sat in silence as they thought over the last several days and a few lingering thoughts on the past. It was a comforting silence, peaceful, both knowing that this might be the last peaceful moment for a while.


End file.
